


Better off as Lovers

by boy101



Series: Emotional Attraction [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Excessive Drinking, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Slow Burn, heavily implied sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8488348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boy101/pseuds/boy101
Summary: "They’re best friends who sleep together until one of them gets in a real relationship and then they’ll go back to just being best friends. He had known this all along. So why was this suddenly hitting him so hard, it was just a date. One date. For all he knew there wouldn’t even be a second date. So why… 
Why did he feel like crying?"





	1. Good Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> You don't have to read part one of this series to read this, even if it does give a bit of maybe helpful context? The only thing you really need to know is that they don't meet Oikawa until university though

“We should have sex” Hanamaki said and Matsukawa stopped breathing.

“What?” He eloquently choked out. They were in Matsukawa’s living room, settling in for a movie night. His parents weren't home and Iwaizumi couldn't join them - something about a school assignment Matsukawa was denying he needed to do too. It was only the beginning of their second year of high school anyway, there was nothing he could miss that would screw him over too badly he reasoned.

“Well, you've never had sex, right?”

“Uh, no?” _Where is he going with this_ Matsukawa thought in a panic.

“OK, good. Or like, not good but you know.” Matsukawa nodded even though he did not, in fact, know. “Anyway, neither have I but everyone's talking about it and making it seem like such a big deal.” Hanamaki frowned.

“And…?” Honestly Matsukawa though it was a pretty big deal, apparently Hanamaki disagreed.

“And I thought that like, sex seems pretty nice, yeah? But it seems stupid to make it into such a big deal, so I thought we should do it.”

Matsukawa was about to explode. He hoped his ever impassive face wasn't betraying him. “What?” He asked again, unable to think past that one simple thought.

“Like… OK, we both like dudes right? And like, you're pretty hot and we're already comfortable around each other and all. So we should have sex, if you want to I mean. It's a win win, we get sex now without all the complicated emotions mixed in and then when we do meet someone we fall in love with we won't be really bad in bed.” Hanamaki rambled, he seemed to have thought it through but suddenly realising exactly what he was proposing first as he was explaining it out loud.

Matsukawa just stared at his hands. His heart and stomach had sank like a stone after springing with hope for just a second. _No complicated emotions, huh_ he thought. He wanted to scoff out loud but stopped himself.

“You, uh… you don't have to.” Hanamaki said when Matsukawa didn't answer. “It was just a thought, if you don't wanna that's fine, it's whatever dude.”

Did he want to? He'd thought about it before, about Hanamaki beneath him, behind him, hovering over him. His own mouth kissing every inch of Hanamaki’s skin and Hanamaki doing the same to him. Matsukawa has spent countless nights thinking about it with one of his hands in his lap and the other covering his mouth to keep from making any noise. There was one difference though, in those fantasies it had never been without any complicated feelings, even if those fantasies had been mostly about getting off there had always been about more than that. But this was close enough, right? Matsukawa nodded to himself before speaking up.

“Yeah, you're right. We should have sex.”

“Nice.” Hanamaki grinned. “Not now though, I actually kinda wanna see the rest of this movie.” He laughed and Matsukawa couldn’t help but chuckle along, ignoring the way his stomach felt filled with bugs.

 

“So uh,” Matsukawa had hesitantly spoken once the credits had been rolling for a minute or two. “What’s OK and stuff?”

“With the sex thing?” Hanamaki asked, fiddling with his hands and not looking at Matsukawa. There was something comforting about knowing he was at least a little nervous too.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Hm, I don’t know.”

“Kissing?”

“Yeah. I think, that OK with you?”

Matsukawa’s stomach, heart and head felt like they were about to rebel against him as he nodded. “Sure.” He shakily exhaled.

“But uh, only during the sex.” Hanamaki clarified and Matsukawa nodded through the mixture of emotions going through him. “Blowjobs?”

“Maybe… wait? With that.” _Good,_ Matsukawa thought, _don’t rush it, I’m making good decisions here._ Both his brain and his dick disagreed but for opposite reasons.

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right. So like, handjobs and stuff.” Matsukawa nodded. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. So uh, your room?” Matsukawa nodded again and Hanamaki grinned in return.

  


Their first time was awkward. Not awkward enough for them to never try again but awkward nonetheless. It was just a simple handjob in Matsukawa’s room with a bit of making out before and during. They didn’t even cuddle afterwards, even though Hanamaki was staying the night on a futon on Matsukawa’s bedroom floor.

It happened again only a few days later. They were just the two of them in Matsukawa’s bedroom again for a study session. Hanamaki had brought it up and Matsukawa had initiated. It was a lot less awkward that time, it reminded Matsukawa of their usual banter. They laughed and joked and the only real difference was what their hands were doing and how it ended with a moan from Hanamaki that would echo through Matsuakwa’s mind for weeks to come.

It became a regular thing quickly. Handjobs turned into blowjobs that turned into frotting that turned into full on fucking. In their third year Matsukawa’s heartache had turned into a dull yet constant throbbing in the back of his chest.

They weren’t together, but they were basically a couple anyway so there’s no reason he’d need more, Matsukawa tried to convince himself. They hung out, even if it was never dates and Iwaizumi was present more often than not, and they had some form of sex pretty regularly, what more could he want? Besides Hanamaki moaning his name rather than just random vocals, hand holding, dates, innocent kisses, flirting… He always stopped himself before the throbbing turned into stabbing pain.

First towards the middle of their last year did Matsukawa realise just how fatal the flaw in their agreement could feel. They were changing after practise and Matsukawa was exhausted enough not to notice Hanamaki until he was only inches away.

“Do I look good? I mean, I know I do. But do I look better than usual I mean?” Hanamaki asked nervously.

He did. He really did. His hair was brushed but not preppy, he was wearing casual clothes that made him look incredible even though it was just jeans, a t-shirt and a jacket and he smelled nice, like a very mild cologne or aftershave. Matsukawa wasn’t about to say any of that out loud though. “Why?” He asked instead.

“I have a date!” Hanamaki beamed.

“You do?” Matsukawa’s mouth went dry and his heart clenched painfully. “With who?”

“Satonaka Yukiko!” He beamed even brighter. Matsukawa could understand why, had he not been gay as a rainbow she’d probably be his type too. She was in their class, smart but not a know it all, funny, confident, long black hair and big brown eyes, in the girl’s volleyball team and really good at the sport. They’d never really talked but he hated her, god he hated her so much.

“Oh. Well, uh, yeah. You look nice. Good luck.” He tried to smile but quickly turned his face away from Hanamaki so he wouldn’t have to force it.

“Thanks! I’ll tell you all about it later, OK?”

Matsukawa didn’t have time to answer before Hanamaki was out the door. He sighed and finished getting changed with heavy movements and a heavier heart. He thinks Iwaizumi - or was it one of the second years? - came up to him and asked if he was OK but his head was impenetrable bubble of static and nothingness threatening to take over and turn into everything. He felt like he was sitting in an empty house with a flood at the door, as long as he kept it closed he was fine. As long as nothing came in and nothing came out he wouldn’t drown. He left the locker room without saying goodbye to anyone.

He knew this was going to happen. It had been the deal all along. They’re best friends who sleep together until one of them gets in a real relationship and then they’ll go back to just being best friends. He had known this all along. So why was this suddenly hitting him so hard, it was just a date. One date. For all he knew there wouldn’t even be a second date. So why…

Why did he feel like crying? Why did he feel like running away from home, punching a hole through his bedroom wall, changing schools… he snorted to himself. He had never been one for dramatics and yet there he was, wondering if he should just kidnap Hanamaki and let Stockholm syndrome to its thing.

_Maybe,_ he thought, _maybe it’s because this isn’t just words._ This wasn’t just Hanamaki looking at people on TV and saying “she’s cute” or “I want to lick his abs” to people he’d never even meet. This was Hanamaki going on an actual date with an actual person and there was an actual chance something would come of it. Matsukawa groaned, he just wanted to get home and pretend this wasn’t happening.

He spent the rest of the afternoon trying to focus on something, anything. He did his homework, cleaned his room, helped his mom with dinner (much to her delight) and reread manga he hadn’t touched since middle school. At just past nine in the evening his phone lit up with a message from Hanamaki, he didn’t read the notification past the name.

He kept distracting himself for hours. It wasn’t until he had to check his alarms for the next day that he had to face the text he’d gotten earlier. He wanted to disappear.

_I’m being stupid,_ he told himself as he looked himself in the mirror and took a deep breath. _I’ll read the message, reply to it, act normal, get over this and everything will be fine._ He nodded to himself, he could do this. He swept across the notification, still not reading it, and his phone opened with a soft sound to his conversation with Hanamaki.

A loud thud was heard as his phone hit the floor by his feet. His hands trembling and knees feeling weak he lowered himself to the floor, his cheeks turning wetter by the second.

Two minutes. Two minutes was what he allowed himself before he took another deep breath and steadied himself. His lungs felt wet and already filled to the brim with something other than air but he fought it. Once again he unlocked his phone and this time he did reply to the message, desperately fighting every emotion and impulse he felt.

**(21:07) Hanamaki:** eyyy B) guess who just had a gr8 date! This Guy ; D looks like we’ll just have to find u a date too now, eh?? so u wont feel lonely without me to keep u company ;)))  

**(23.44) Matsukawa:** Nice! Haha I think I’ll be fine, thanks.

He realised it sounded bad. It was too stiff, too forced and correct, much more like something Iwaizumi would send but he couldn’t help it. If Hanamaki asked he’d just say he was tired, which wasn’t entirely a lie.

He checked his alarm and went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't supposed to be multi-chaptered but then it turned really long and I wanted to put something up before school started again. Next chapter is pretty much done already and this still won't be too long all in all (I hope) so updates will be pretty regular 
> 
> I don't have a beta reader or anything like that so all feedback of any kind is super appreciated! 
> 
> As always kudos and comments are super appreciated ❁
> 
> ((Ps. High five to anyone who gets where I got the name Satonaka Yukiko from))


	2. Good Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK I swear next chapter will be more exciting (...hopefully) bare with me OK I just needed two chapters to set the scene (sorta)

Hanamaki’s relationship with Yukiko lasted three months. Three months of dates and hurrying from practise and asking Matsukawa if he looked alright for a date. Three months of absolute heartbreak almost every day.

Even if Hanamaki wasn’t the type to completely forget his friends just because he got into a relationship Matsukawa still felt absurdly scared of being forgotten. Every second of attention he got from Hanamaki he valued higher than he did a lifetime’s worth of anyone else’s.

Within a month it got bad enough even Iwaizumi noticed. When he asked about it one day - after Hanamaki had left the locker room in a hurry and Matsukawa had stared at the door after him for two full minutes - Matsukawa just told him. He didn’t even care if any of the second or first years heard, he was tired and heartbroken and he wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it anyway.

“I guess it makes sense.” Iwaizumi had said later as they walked home together.

“What does?”

“You and Hanamaki.” Iwaizumi shrugged and Matsukawa didn’t say anything back. What could he answer? _I know_ , was all that came to mind and the thought alone was enough for Matsukawa to feel his heart break just a tiny bit more.

After that Iwaizumi had been surprisingly helpful when Hanamaki had talked about his girlfriend with them. Where he’d previously just shrugged and let Masukawa answer something he’d now actively try to end or digress the conversation. Matsukawa appreciated it more than he ever voiced but he hoped the nods he sent Iwaizumi’s way was enough to express it.

 

The worst thing about all of it though, Matsukawa thought, was that even though it hurt like hell when Hanamaki kept confirming over and over again that he didn’t like him back Matsukawa just kept falling deeper and deeper for him. Every casual touch, a high-five here and there or a pat on the shoulder in encouragement or a silent well done, sent his heart to his throat and made his palms sweat.

Hanamaki didn’t forget about him in favour of Satonaka even if they did spend a few afternoons less together. Every time they hung out Hanamaki was still the same Hanamaki Matsukawa had fallen for and something about it sent his mind spinning. It was strange how it was so different and still exactly the same. Matsukawa mused about the irony of the situation. Hanamaki and Satonaka were the ones in a relationship and yet Matsukawa seemed to be the one who’s life changed the most.

What hurt most about it though was the fact that the only person he wanted to talk about it with was Hanamaki. Sure he had Iwaizumi to talk to, but there was something that just felt fundamentally wrong about not being able to talk about it with his best friend, it felt too important to hide yet too big to tell.

Through it all Hanamaki kept talking about Satonaka. _Yesterday we this_ and _this weekend we’ll that._ Matsukawa wanted to hate it, and a part of him did. A part of him hated Satonaka, hated the relationship and hated having to listen to Hanamaki talk about it. Another part of him liked it though. He liked it because when he talked about it Hanamaki’s eyes would light up and he’d laugh and he was so happy and content that it made Matsukawa’s chest feel warm and fuzzy. Hanamaki was a great boyfriend, even if he wasn’t _his_ boyfriend. 

 

The day Yukiko broke up with Hanamaki Matsukawa experienced more emotions at once than he usually did in a year - even if that number had exponentially increased since meeting Hanamaki. Hanamaki had come over unannounced with a sad smile on his face and Matsukawa didn’t dare breathe. He knew Hanamaki was supposed to be on a date now, but instead he was standing in the doorway to Matsukawa’s house looking… heartbroken? Matsukawa hated himself for the hopeful feeling that came with that word. But then Hanamaki spoke and Matsukawa could feel his heart both breaking and healing at once.

“Yuki- uh, Satonaka broke up with me.” Hanamaki shrugged, his voice sounded a little watery and wobbly.

Matsukawa took a step forward and hugged him. He didn’t know what else to do. He had nothing to say, everything felt sad or cruel. _She wasn’t the right one for you anyway (because I am), that’s too bad (but I was hoping for this, I’m so sorry), I never liked her anyway (because you did and I only want you to like me)._ Hanamaki hugged him back tightly and Matsukawa prayed he couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest.

 

“So… how are you feeling?” Matsukawa asked a while later. They were sitting in Matsukawa’s room after having devoured two pints of ice-cream in a matter of minutes. No one had said anything until now, they’d just been sitting next to each other with their legs lightly brushing.

“I don’t know, pretty bad?” Hanamaki answered. It sounded so much like a question that it took Matsukawa off guard. Hanamaki had never been the type to ask for any kind of permission for what he said or felt.

“That’s understandable.” Matsukawa cursed himself for not being able to come up with anything better to say.

“You know what reason she gave for breaking up with me?”

“No, what did she say?”

“Nothing. She just said ‘I think we should break up, sorry’ and then left. Just straight up turned around and walked away.” He snorted as to say _it’s not a big deal, it’s actually kinda funny,_ but it just sounded sad and self deprecating. “She didn’t seem all that sorry to me. Guess all the times she said she was happy I accepted her confession she lied, huh?” Hanamaki’s voice hitched and Matsukawa slung an arm around his shoulders, letting him rest his head on his chest.

“I’m sorry, dude.” _Nice no homo there,_ Matsukawa cursed himself, _‘dude’, way to make him understand that you really take his pain seriously._

Hanamaki just snorted again. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s not like I expected this to last forever anyway. Highschool relationships aren’t meant to last.”

Matsukawa hummed. “I guess,” he agreed. He couldn’t help but think that if it had been him and not Satonaka that Hanamaki had been dating it would have lasted forever - at least so he told himself.

“We didn’t even sleep together once,” Hanamaki sighed. He seemed to realise how bad that sounded right away though and explained in a hurry, “I mean not that I dated her to have sex with her! Obviously! I really liked her, I just… She did offer a few times but I really tried to take things slow and do it right and all that. You know?”   

“Yeah” Matsukawa said even though he really didn’t. The closest he’d ever come to a relationship was his deal with Hanamaki. “Guess all that practise was for nothing then, huh?” Matsukawa was internally screaming and kicking himself. Out of all the things he could have said he just had to bring that up. _Real smooth,_ he thought.

Hanamaki just chuckled though. “Yeah well, I wouldn’t mind if we started practising again now.” Hanamaki said, his face still buried in Matsukawa’s chest.

Matsukawa’s breath hitched and the rational part of his brain screamed at him not to do it. Hanamaki was hurt and vulnerable and it would only end in heartbreak once again. He would only be hurting them both if he agreed. He looked down at Hanamaki, meaning to say no, but just as he did that Hanamaki raised his head and looked up. They ended up face to face, only a centimeter separating their faces, Hanamaki’s breath fanning over his face with every slow exhale.

It was a bad idea, but Matsukawa was weak. He was so so weak and he’d missed being close to Hanamaki enough for his entire body to hurt with it, so he leaned in. “Okay,” he breathed out the second before their lips connected.  

 

The sex was different from it had been before Satonaka Yukiko. Where it before had been easy, jokes and laughs mixed in here and there, it was now quiet but intense. It was more focused, better as sex but worse as… Matsukawa didn’t know what to call it. Because really, it shouldn’t have been worse in any way because if the sex was better everything was better right? Because that was all it was, unemotional sex.

Maybe that was it though. Before Satonaka Yukiko it had been fun, a thing they did as close friends. They were still close friends of course, on the surface nothing had changed. Nothing but the sex, the sex that now didn’t require them being friends, because after Satonaka Yukiko it turned into what it was supposed to be from the beginning; practise for what was now a very real possibility - either of them getting in a real relationship.  It was sweaty and hot but in the end there were no jokes, no laughs, no reminders that they were best friends even as they slept together. It was nothing but two bodies and any emotions they might have felt were kept securely out of it.

The first time after Satonaka Yukiko Hanamaki had moaned out her name as he came. He’d apologized, of course, but Matsukawa had just waved it off and Hanamaki didn’t seem all that sorry. Not because he didn’t care about Matsukawa, but because how could he know that he wasn’t the only one who cried because of heartbreak that night.

 

Only a few weeks later Hanamaki got another girlfriend, but that only lasted a month and a half and Matsukawa forgot her name the second it was over. Hanamaki hadn’t seemed as heartbroken about it that time, he probably wasn’t either. As they lay next to each other but not touching in Matsukawa’s bed post-sex the night of the breakup Hanamaki grinned and said “good thing I topped, since I got to practise in the last month and isn’t as rusty as you.”

It was a joke. Matsukawa knew it’s a joke, something to dispel the weird atmosphere that settled between them. Yet he felt his eyes watering as he fought the urge to throw up.

After that Matsukawa started appreciating the sex for what it was and adamantly shut up the part of his brain that wished it was still more. He was sure that if he showed any kind of emotion during it he’d end up either confessing or crying or both in the heat of the moment. The mental image of Hanamaki with someone else imprinted itself in the front of his brain and refused to leave. Sometimes he cried, most times he just let the feeling burn his heart as he got on with his days.

It didn’t take long for Matsukawa to completely switch to autopilot. His standard teasing became lackluster at best and his enthusiasm for everything dwindled. It wasn’t bad enough to cause trouble, his grades didn’t slip more than a few missed questions here and there and he was still doing well enough in volleyball, but nothing ever felt quite as good, quite as worth it as it had done before.

Iwaizumi noticed, of course he did. They talked about it sometimes. Matsukawa talked about it with a lopsided smile, tried to joke it away like he did with everything. Iwaizumi frowned, saw right through it but didn’t say anything.

 

“He’s just… so hot, you know?” Matsukawa groaned one day. His inner monologue about Hanamaki was usually a lot more eloquent (and it usually mentioned his personality and who he is as a person too, but that was particularly hard to voice out loud so he rarely did).

“I don’t.” Iwaizumi said, “but I know what you mean, I guess.”

“But like… just… imagine the most attractive person you’ve ever seen, right?” Matsukawa said and glanced towards Iwaizumi. He was expecting a nod, something that indicated Iwaizumi was with him and he could continue explaining what it was like to hopelessly pin after Hanamaki. What he was met with instead was a far away, almost empty look.

“Uh…” Iwaizumi said.

“Oh come on, someone. Anyone! It can be a movie star or something. Or I don’t know? Godzilla? Actually what are you even into dude?” Matsukawa asked, suddenly curious. Iwaizumi had never talked about anyone he was interested in, Matsukawa didn’t even know his sexuality.

“Nothing.” Iwaizumi said.

“No one, ever?”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi nodded. “I don’t know, I’ve just never cared. And uh… you know… _that_ just seems kinda gross.”

“Sex?”

Iwaizumi nodded again before shrugging. “I’ve just always had other things I cared more about, maybe when I’m older I’ll get it or something.”

“Or you’re ace.” Matsukawa said and when Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow as to say _yes, obviously I’m the ace of the volleyball team what does that have to do with anything_ he elaborated, “like, asexual. Like you don’t feel any sexual attraction at all. I don’t know more than that but it sounds a lot like what you’re saying.”

Iwaizumi looked at him blankly for a second before taking up his phone and opening a web browser. Matsukawa leaned closer to look at the screen, about to tell Iwaizumi how rude it was of him to just ignore him like that until he saw that Iwaizumi’s googling the term he just brought up. Matsukawa leaned back again and watched Iwaizumi’s eyes dart across the screen.

After a while Iwaizumi hummed and put his phone down, “yeah,” he said and hummed again, louder this time. “It’s probably that” he shrugged, but there was a tiny smile on his face and Matsukawa felt unreasonably proud over himself for having brought this self discovery on.

After that Matsukawa stopped trying to get Iwaizumi to really understand his pain and decided it was easier to simply pour his heart out in a disgusting word vomit from time to time. Eventually he even started talking about the emotional part of it, about how when Hanamaki laughed at his own jokes Matsukawa’s breath got stuck in his throat and when Hanamaki talked about something he truly cared about his grin turned into a genuine smile and Matsukawa wanted to get on his knees and pray his thanks to the gods. He ignored the way Iwaizumi looked at him with something way too close to pity when it got really bad.

Iwaizumi started talking more too. His bitter thoughts about never being in a relationship because he’d just disappoint when he’d never want to have sex and and his genuine worry that he’d die alone, slowly it all came out too.

There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that nothing of what was said between them in those moments would ever, under any circumstances, be talked about outside of their rather embarrassing emotional moments.

Hanamaki was still his best friend, and the three of them still hung out all the time. On the surface not much changed during their last year of high school, yet when he graduated Matsukawa felt like a whole new person. The part of him that could completely shut out his feelings for Hanamaki; the part that found solace and an unexpectedly close friendship with Iwaizumi bonding over those feelings; the part that to everyone but him and his two closest friends was still the same hetrosexual, chill and pretty undramatic person he was in year one - it all made him feel like a person more frustratingly complex than he ever wanted to be.

He made sure never to think too much about it though. It was better to just let it be and go with the flow, he thought. At this point he’d lost count of how many times he’d been wrong about all of this anyway.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aurgh honestly I really don't like how this turned out? At all? 
> 
> I feel like my general unenthusiasm for life is really showing in my writing and I don't know what to do about it. This feels really lackluster and boring and I'm sorry, I swear I'll try to do better in the future though because I still really like this fic
> 
> As always kudos and comments are super appreciated ❁
> 
> (concrit is more than welcome, I feel like I need it)


	3. Good Experiences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's some pretty heavy alcohol consumption in this one so be careful if that's something you're uncomfortable with ! 
> 
> This entire chapter is from Hanamaki's POV, I think I made it pretty clear but I thought I'd mention it to avoid any confusion

Hanamaki honestly never planned to be one of _those_ people. One of those people who the second they left their parents home and moved on to university lost all sense of responsibility and did every single thing their parents wouldn’t approve of. It just sort of happened.

_It just sort of happened._ He wanted to kick himself for even thinking the thought. He knew that there are far too many choices he had to make in the process that was going out, getting drunk and sleeping with someone he met that same night for it to _just sort of happen._ Especially when it happened weekend after weekend and sometimes even mid week if something worth celebrating had come up (half the time he didn’t even know what the party was meant to celebrate but he ignored that).

Yet there he was, three months into his university experience with more memories of hangovers and one night stands than an eighteen year old should reasonably have. When talking to others about it he prided himself in it, stuck out his chest and laughed. He tried really hard not to think too much about it, he’s too young to actually fuck something up he justified it to himself and then kept going out, because in the end it was just _fun._

 

His first university party had been just the weekend after he’d moved his things into the apartment he shared with Hanamaki and Iwaizumi. It was a school tradition of sorts, apparently, and even Iwaizumi had been there (even if he left in less than hour, something Hanamaki didn’t even realise until he was told about it the day after). It had been held in a rented facility and Hanamaki had never seen so many people in the same place before. No one checked his ID and half the people there appeared to have been drunk even before arriving, it was both terrifying and thrilling.

He’d lost Matsukawa and Iwaizumi in a matter of minutes and before he really registered how it happened he was dancing with a guy even taller than himself being handed a shot he accepted without qualms.

“You here alone?” The guy - Yusei something, Hanamaki had missed his first name because of the music - had asked, having to almost scream over the loud music.

“My friends should be here somewhere.” Hanamaki had screamed back, breathing heavily with the alcohol and the way Yusei was standing way too close with his hands too far down his waist.

“Friends you need to get home with or…?” Yusei asked, ending his question by grinding their hips together and grinning. Hanamaki laughed.

“I don’t even know you, why would I go with you?”

“Afraid I’m a murderer?”

“It’s not an un… unreasab…unresble...” Hanamaki struggled to form the entire word through the haze that was intoxication and a hot guy grinding his hips against his.

Yusei just chuckled, “unreasonable?”

“Hah! Yeah that, it’s not an unreasonable thing to think.”

“Maybe not. But I can tell you more about me, if that would help convince you?”

“You can try.”

Yusei did, and Hanamaki had to admit he didn’t do a half bad job of it. He talked briefly about his major, his roommate (who conveniently wouldn’t be in that night), what he thought about the university, what he did on the weekend and other things Hanamaki had forgotten about the second Yusei said something else. Throughout it Yusei kept grinding his hips, asking Hanamaki about himself, assuring him he wouldn’t regret it if he did follow him home and Hanamaki… Hanamaki felt great.

That he halfway through all of it had seen Matsukawa stumble out from the party with a heavily intoxicated girl on his arm had nothing to do with it he told himself.

  


He woke up the next day in a bed he didn’t recognise in a bedroom he only vaguely remembered entering. His head was throbbing with a hangover and next to him Yusei was still sleeping. An alarm clock told him it was still only seven in the morning so he rose quietly and looked for his clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor. He noted that he was completely naked but felt too shitty physically to have the energy to add any judgemental thoughts to his already miserable state.

His phone was still in his jeans pocket but it wouldn’t turn on when he pressed the home button. Hanamaki sent out a silent prayer that it was only out of battery and not broken.

Once all his clothes were on and he found his keys, somehow kicked under the bed, he slowly opened the door to leave only to have it whine loudly enough to wake up the entire neighbourhood, Hanamaki winced and looked back to where Yusei stirred before heavily sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Sorry, I was just leaving.” Hanamaki said sheepishly.

“No, wait.” Yusei grumbled, Hanamaki figured he was only about ten percent awake but listened anyway.

“You can stay for breakfast if you want.” Yusei said after he’d rubbed his eyes enough for Hanamaki to worry they might fall out and had put on a pair of clean boxers.

“Uh, I don’t… I should probably…” Hanamaki said, not sure how to leave without being rude or give the impression that this was anything more than a one night stand.

“It doesn’t mean this meant anything.” Yusei said, seemingly reading his thoughts. “If you had half of what I did last night you must have a hangover from hell. If you want to leave that’s fine but at least take an advil or something first.” Hanamaki considered it for a second without saying anything, trying to figure out what the right thing to do in the situation was. “Seriously dude, just stay for breakfast and leave when you’re feeling at least a little better, even I can tell you’re almost dead on your feet. I’d feel bad sending you out on the street like that.“

Hanamaki considered it for a moment longer before relenting and going to the kitchen with Yusei.

Yusei turned out not to be half bad, even when Hanamaki wasn’t drunk. An advil and a surprisingly well balanced breakfast later the prospect of doing the walk of shame home didn’t even seem that shameful anymore and Hanamaki congratulated himself on making a good decision and staying for breakfast.

“There’s a party next weekend too.” Yusei said as Hanamaki was putting on his shoes. “It’s much smaller than this one, just at one of my friend’s place. You should come.”

“Uh, thanks, but I think I should try to focus on my studies actually.” Hanamaki answered, fighting his immediate urge to answer something along the lines of _hell yeah._

Yusei shrugged. “You can retake a test but you can’t re-go to a party.”

Hanamaki laughed, “I’ll think about it,” he said.

  


So maybe it didn’t _just sort of happen,_ if he really thought about it. Because after that first party he contacted Yusei about the second one… and after that he contacted someone from that party about yet another party… and after that there was a girl who knew about a club that didn’t check ID… and after that… OK so maybe Hanamaki could have stopped what he was doing at any point, but why would he? He had fun and he wasn’t hurting anyone. Maybe his grades were suffering a bit, but it wasn’t too bad.

Knowing pretty much everyone on campus wasn’t too bad either. There was always someone in his class he could pair up with for a group project and a girl in his early monday class had more than once gracefully lended him her notes when his hangover had been particularly bad and he either hadn’t gone at all or gone but not been able to keep up.

So he was getting by. He was partying and frankly speaking sleeping around more than what would be considered normal but it wasn't a problem.

It wasn’t a problem. The worried looks he got from Iwaizumi wasn’t a problem, he was always worried anyway. Slipping grades weren’t a problem, it wasn’t so bad after all - he could make it up easily. Waking up with a hangover every weekend and monday morning wasn’t a problem, it passed fairly soon anyway, and he liked to think he was getting used to it. Spending less time with Iwaizumi and Matsukawa wasn’t a problem, they lived together after all - they saw each other all the time even if Hanamaki was never home on the weekends.

Spending less time with Matsukawa, especially, wasn’t a problem. That first party had proved well enough that Matsukawa could find his own company.

If Hanamaki noticed and relished that Matsukawa seemed a little more eager to spend the nights with him during the week if he was marked up by someone else then well, that wasn’t a problem either. It didn’t mean anything.

  


“You need to stop.” Iwaizumi said one friday, just over two months after university had started. Iwaizumi was sitting by their kitchen table and Hanamaki was laying on their couch on the other side of the room.

“Stop what?” Hanamaki didn’t even look at Iwaizumi despite his confusion. He wasn’t doing anything, not even watching TV.

“Whatever it is you’re doing on the weekends.” Iwaizumi sighed and shut his books, walking over to the couch standing by Hanamaki’s feet, lifting Hanamaki’s legs up by his shins and dropping them in his lap after he was seated. “It’s getting too much.”

Despite the proximity Hanamaki still didn’t look up at Iwaizumi, a lump in his throat and a heaviness over his chest preventing him from answering at all.

“Seriously, it’s… We’re worried about you, you know?” Iwaizumi said.

“There’s no need to be.” Hanamaki shrugged.

“You’ve gotten shitfaced every weekend since we moved here, I barely see you on the weekends even though we live together and fuck, you don’t even talk to Matsukawa anymore, Hanamaki.” Iwaizumi took a deep breath, even without looking Hanamaki could imagine the way his eyebrows were pulled together and the way his jaw was clenched tight in worry, he almost felt bad being the reason behind it. “If you don’t want to stop then at least… at least slow down a little, please?”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’ve got it under control.” He felt unsure of his own words but decided that the first step in convincing himself was convincing someone else. Iwaizumi grunted, obviously not agreeing but not verbally disagreeing either.

It was quiet for a while before Iwaizumi spoke up again, “your parents called Matsukawa” he said, sounding like he wasn’t sure of he should say it or not. “He didn’t want me to tell you but since he didn’t tell you himself…”

“Why would they do that?”

“They’re worried too.” Hanamaki looked up at Iwaizumi at last, not knowing what to do with the overwhelming guilt threatening to take over from inside him. “You should talk to them, maybe visit them for a weekend.” Iwaizumi’s scowl turned into a shrug.

“Yeah… Maybe.” Hanamaki sighed, he honestly hadn’t even realised he’d forgotten to talk to his parents, too caught up in his own head. “Why didn’t Matsukawa tell me?” He asked after thinking the question over in his head, it tasted as bitter said out loud as it felt in his head.

“He didn’t know what to say. He’s worried and…” Iwaizumi trailed off before shaking his head, “he’s worried” he repeated without elaborating. “He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to dictate your life, afraid he’d make it worse, I think.”

“Is that why he’s…”

“Not here? Yeah. I said I was going to talk to you and he left, said he’d be back later.”

“Oh.” It was all he could think to say. The guilt he’d just barely managed to contain throughout the conversation started seeping out of every crevice of his insides, feeling like heavy black tar suffocating and defiling him from the inside out. He curled in on himself, tightening his expression to one of apathy, refusing to let it show more than it already did.

“Talk to him when he gets back,” Iwaizumi said, patting Hanamaki’s knee as he stood up, “And uh, stay in tonight, OK?” he said, turning slightly in the door to his room. It was phrased like a question but spoken as a statement, Hanamaki didn’t even bother trying to argue.

The door to Iwaizumi’s bedroom closed with a soft click, leaving Hanamaki alone in the dining-living room area.

_It’s not that bad,_ he thought. _It’s really not that bad and because I am still In Control of my life Today I’m staying home with my closest friends, my comrades, my pals, my… anyway, I’m staying home today. I’m not getting drunk… or laid, I’m staying home because I don’t need to get drunk… or laid. Bros before hoes…_ The front door opened, effectively bringing Hanamaki out of his thoughts.

“Oh.” Matsukawa said once he’d pulled off his shoes and stepped out of the genkan. “You’re, uh, you’re home. Still.”

“I am, yeah.” He tried to stretch his legs out but almost cramped when his muscles refused to relax. He hadn’t even noticed how tense he’d been.

“You staying in tonight or…?” Matsukawa trailed off. He sounded so hesitant something in Hanamaki clenched painfully when he realised Iwaizumi had been right, he didn’t talk to Matsukawa anymore and now it had become weird and uncomfortable in a way it had never been between them before.

_Yes._ He wanted to say. _Yes, I’m staying home._ He opened his mouth to say it, confirm his own thoughts that things were Under Control. Instead his phone buzzed in his pocket, interrupting him just just as he opened his mouth. He forced himself into a sitting position and pulled his phone out, looking at the message.

It was from a girl he’d been sort of flirting with at the club he frequented when there weren’t any apartment parties to go to. It simply asked if she’d be seeing him there tonight and ended with a suggestive smiley. Hanamaki took a deep breath, trying to get his thoughts in order. He looked up at Matsukawa, his gaze still hesitant in a way that made the guilt in Hanamaki come back tenfold.

“No.” He said. “No, I’m… I’m going out tonight. Getting some and all that you know?” He tried to laugh, play it off and make it seem as fun as it was supposed to be, he failed miserably even to his own ears. Matsukawa flinched.

“Whatever.” He said before turning around and walking to the hallway with their bedrooms, entering the bedroom he shared with Iwaizumi. Once again Hanamaki was left alone in the apartment living room, feeling horrible yet determined. He looked himself up and down, deeming his outfit good enough, and left the apartment building.

  


The club was filled with cigarette smoke and the smell of sweat and alcohol. Hanamaki was pretty sure cigarettes weren’t even allowed indoors but the club was pretty infamous for not caring about any regulations and Hanamaki couldn’t care less.

He’d only been there for an hour, having killed time in a McDonalds between leaving his apartment and going to the club, and he was already shitfaced. He was shitfaced because his first two shots only made the anxious tingling in his fingers worse, his third and fourth only made him ill and the beers he’d drank after that hadn’t made him feel better either, so he’d just kept trying.

He’d long lost track of how much he’d drank. With every shot and every sip of beer he’d grinned at the people around him, tried to convince them and himself that he was having fun, that he was In Control.

Thoughts of Iwaizumi, his parents, Matsukawa, his studies, every nameless person he’d already slept with in his short university career kept spinning through his mind. He tried desperately not to think about it, to push it out of his mind and just have fun. Because that was why he was there in the first place - because it was fun.

Except it wasn’t all that fun.

It wasn’t fun when every drink just made him think more and feel closer to throwing up. It wasn’t fun when a guy who must have been almost two meters started grinding against him. It wasn’t fun when he fell to the floor after the bartender had to come to his rescue and push the other guy away. It wasn’t fun when he left the club through a backdoor that was probably supposed to be locked. It wasn’t fun when he fell to his knees next to a dumpster, throwing up his guts as his thoughts became hazier and hazier.

It wasn’t fun - but it was almost a relief,  almost but not quite nice - when his vision became more and more blurred until he blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm sorry? OK I swear it won't be this angsty through out the entire story but well... no hoenstly I don't have an excuse for this chapter (Sorry Makki I swear I love you) 
> 
> I'm sorry it took so long between updates, I've felt really insecure about my writing lately and I have so many ideas for this story but no one to talk to about them so I get stuck in my own head feeling like everything I come up with is boring and shit and I keep comparing myself to other better writers and just... uuugh. At least now that I've written this I feel like my writers block is passing so I hope school'll go easy on me so I can get the next chapter out sooner 
> 
> As always kudos and comments are super appreciated ❁
> 
> ((P.S. If you wanna come talk to me on my tumblr it's [hinata-kenma.tumblr.com](http://hinata-kenma.tumblr.com/) ♥ ))


	4. Good questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit it's been 4 months I am so very very sorry

It was two in the morning. It was two in the goddamn morning after a frankly horrible day and Matsukawa’s phone was ringing. He wanted to scream. Instead he grunted and picked up his phone from his bedside table, he hadn’t fallen asleep yet anyway so he guessed the call could be forgivable - this time.

He looked at the caller ID and his heart logged in his throat, his inner monologue about it being two in the morning abruptly coming to a stop. _Hanamaki Akiko._ There was no reason she’d be calling him, other than…

“Hanamaki-san.” He said, his voice thankfully sounding more sleepy than worried.

“ _Are you with Takahiro right now?_ ” Hanamaki’s mom said, not bothering with a hello.

“He’s… I’m not. I’m at home, he went out a few hours ago. Why?”

There was a deep breath on the other line before, “ _Takahiro is in the hospital, Matsukawa-kun, please could you..._ “ Hanamaki-san choked up, the distress obvious in her voice. “ _We can’t come down and the doctors said he’d be fine they said…”_

“Hey, hey, it’s OK, I’ll go there right away don’t worry.” Matsukawa tried to sound calming despite his own heart racing. “Where, uh, where is he?”

“ _They called from the Tokyo ER, I don’t know…”_

“That’s OK, I’ll ask for him.” He said, trying to get his shirt on while not removing his phone from his ear. “What happened to him?” He grabbed his keys and wallet, already making his way out of the apartment, praying the tube was still going.

 _“They said they pumped his stomach, that he had alcohol poisoning.”_ Akiko sounded almost ashamed, second only to the worry and fear evident in the slight trembling off her voice.

“I’m on my way now, I’ll check on him and call you. Don’t worry Hanamaki-san I’ll make sure he’s OK.” He felt sick. As Akiko thanked him and they said quick goodbyes Matsukawa sped up so he was running towards the nearest tube station, the cold night air burning his lungs.

  


The hospital room was blindingly bright. Outside it had been dark, the streetlights casting everything in a yellow glow. The hallway had been dimmed. Hanamaki’s hospital room however was bright and stark white. A doctor stood by the only occupied bed in the room, checking dials and needles attached to Hanamaki’s arms.

“Fuck.” Matsukawa swore under his breath. The doctor looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Sorry” he murmured. The doctor only nodded and looked back to Hanamaki.

“You’re fine and can leave in the morning. A nurse will come in and discharge you then, as well as explain what you can and can’t do for the next couple of days. For now you should rest.” The doctor said, sounding far too neutral for Matsukawa’s raising heart.

“Thank you sensei.” Hanamaki’s voice was hoarse, like he’d used it way too much or not at all for months. “Hey, Matsukawa…”

“You should probably rest your voice too,” the doctor interrupted, “Don’t keep him up,” she turned to Matsukawa “but it would be good if you were here to take him home. I assume you are friends?” Matsukawa nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. “Good” she said before leaving the room and sliding the door closed behind her.

There was an empty bed next to Hanamaki’s. The clean sheets unruffled and a light orange color no one in their right mind could find nice. Or maybe it was just the setting. The fluorescent lights never flickered. Something hummed in the background. No one said anything for a while.

“Matsu…”

“The doctor said you shouldn’t talk.” He walked over and sat at the end of the bed, resisting the urge to put a hand on Hanamaki’s leg and run it soothingly along it. There was another beat of silence. “Your mom called me, she was really worried you know.” _I was too,_ he didn’t say.

Hanamaki leaned his head backwards and rested it heavily against the flat hospital pillows. His usual grin was nowhere to be seen as he stared at the ceiling. “I’ll call her, tell her you’re OK but first I need to say something and you don’t get to talk, both because the doctor said so and because I need to say this.” In the back of his mind Matsukawa could vaguely remember someone telling him that nothing good happens after two am, and that all meaningful conversations should be held before it - or it wouldn’t mean as much. He ignored it.

“I heard Iwaizumi already told you, but we’re worried about you. So, _so,_ worried. We respect that it’s your life and you can do whatever…” he had to take a deep breath to steady himself, his voice nearly cracking with unshed tears of frustration and fear. “You can do whatever you want but… fuck. You’re in the hospital Takahiro! Your mom had to call me at two in the morning almost crying and if she hadn’t I probably wouldn’t even have found out about this because you never talk to me anymore!” He felt almost out of breath, trying to get everything he needed to say out while he still remembered. While he still dared.

“You have to stop this. I…” _love you. Fear for you. Miss you._ “Please, text me in the morning when you can leave. Me and Iwaizumi will come pick you up.” He looked towards Hanamaki, he hadn’t moved and his gaze was still set on the ceiling but his breath hitched over and over again and tears threatened to spill over and run down his pale face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Matsukawa said as he stood up and walked out.

On the way home he cried. Each sob felt like an echo through his body. He walked all the way home. It took almost an hour. At five in the morning he collapsed against his closed front door and called Hanamaki’s mom, told her all was OK and that he and Iwaizumi would be picking up her son in a few hours. He refused to think about it as he let the pain of everything that had been building up for weeks wash over him.

He went to sleep feeling drained in a way he didn’t even know was possible.

  


Hanamaki called at ten the next morning. Iwaizumi and Matsukawa both went to pick him up and Matsukawa explained what had happened the night before on the way there. Iwaizumi only nodded and hummed to show he was listening.

  


“We need to talk about this.” Iwaizumi said once the front door closed behind them. He was already making his way to the kitchen to make tea. The other two nodded, knowing they didn’t have a choice.

There was a tense silence laying heavily in the room as they all sat at the kitchen table. Iwaizumi looked at Hanamaki, silently urging him to say something. Hanamaki and Matsukawa both just looked down in their cups. Iwaizumi sighed and Hanamaki stared harder at his tea before speaking.

“Thanks.” His voice still sounded hoarse but it also sounded thick, like the tears from yesterday still lingered. “For picking me up today, I mean.”

“‘Course.” Iwaizumi took a sip of his tea. “Why did we have to, though?”

“I could have gotten home on my own…” Hanamaki looked ashamed.

“I know. That wasn’t what I meant though.”

“Yeah. I don’t know. Yesterday, and every day before that, I just… It was fun, at first, you know? But then it wasn’t but I wanted it to be and there’s just… fuck I don’t know OK. I don’t…” His voice hitched and his entire posture got tenser by the second. Masukawa hurt just looking at him. He didn’t know what to do.

“What are you going to do?” Matsukawa thanked every god he’d ever so much as heard of for Iwaizumi Hajime and his seemingly endless resolve to do what was needed, no matter how unpleasant.

“The hospital arranged a meeting with a therapist… I’m going. I think. I can’t afford it so I have to ask for help from my parents and it’s not… not really a conversation I want to have with them but…” Hanamaki trailed off.

“You have to go.” Matsukawa didn’t look up, his tone was sharp. “You have to go and you have to stop doing whatever the _fuck_ it was that landed you in the hospital.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I will.”

“Good.” Both Iwaizumi and Matsukawa said with a nod. “Let’s hang out today.” Matsukawa said, trying to change his tone to a lighter one.

“You still want to?”

“Of course, that’s pretty much all we’ve wanted from the start…” Matsukawa looked up and met Hanamaki’s eyes. They were wet but accompanied by a grin. Matsukawa and Iwaizumi grinned back.

  


“You’ve really gotten bad at this.” Matsukawa said, his face was as impassive as ever but his eyes gleamed with joy.

“Excuse me, just because you’ve apparently done nothing but play Mario Kart the last two months” Hanamaki huffed and crossed his arms. His controller was on the floor next to him, abandoned once he realised he was coming dead last no matter how much he tried.

Iwaizumi snorted, “you can’t even beat _me_ at this anymore.” He sounded so proud both Hanamaki and Matsukawa couldn’t help but laugh.

“I was just unprepared! I’m all warmed up now so let’s play again and I’ll totally beat both of you!” Hanamaki defended.  

“That’s what you’ve said for three rounds now.”

“Don’t make that disappointed dad face, Iwaizumi! You look like you just went to see your son's soccer game just to find out your son wasn’t even allowed to play and I was not _that_ bad.”

“You’re right. You were worse, you wouldn’t even be on the team.”

“Wow, harsh” Hanamaki huffed as if offended but it soon turned into a wide smile. “Let’s just watch TV or something instead. I’m tired of all this slander.”

“It’s not slander if it’s true though.” Matsukawa pointed out as he turned the Wii off.

“What is this, pick on Hanamaki day?”

“Well, that is every day and we have missed out on a lot so…” Matsukawa smirked before getting hit in the face with a pillow. He laughed and the other two joined in. There was an almost nostalgic air to the room. They’d all missed doing this, maybe more than they realised. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

“I am too.” Iwaizumi agreed.

“Good. I’m uh… I’m sorry, again.”

“You should talk to your parents.”

“Do you always have to be like that, Iwaizumi?” Hanamaki sighed.

“Like what?”

“Reasonable.” Iwaizumi just rolled his eyes. “But yeah, you’re right. I think I’ll go do that now, before I chicken out.”

  


Hanamaki held the ringing phone to his ear as he closed his bedroom door behind him. His heart felt like it was going to jump out his throat but he was determined to talk to his parents, at least to his mom.

His thoughts drifted to a memory of him when he was still just a kid and accidentaly broke one of his mother’s potted plants. It had been standing on a windowsill and eight year old Takahiro had always thought it was beautiful. It had been in the kitchen for as long as he could remember, always standing there like a small tree welcoming him home and keeping his family company for breakfast, lunch and dinner. He’d just been looking at it, carefully reaching out to touch the thick leaves when he stumbled straight into it. In his haste to try and find his footing he had accidentally grabbed onto it and smashed it to the ground with him.

At first he was shocked, and a little hurt - the plant was heavier than he expected. His eight year old self was halfway to tears, wanting to scream so someone would come and lift him off the ground and tell him it would be OK, but then he realised what had happened. He looked at the shattered clay pot and the plant with broken branches and leaves bent in half.

Never before had he felt such immense guilt. He thought about the way his mom worried about that plant every time they went away, even if it was just for a few days. He thought about how in his head he’d say hello to that plant every time he walked into the kitchen, about how it was almost a family member at this point. He panicked, tried to pick up the pieces but quickly realised he couldn’t do anything. He started crying.

His mom had heard him from the next room over and had come rushing in. She’d assured him that all was OK and that the important part was the he wasn’t hurt, but his guilt didn’t let up. He couldn’t look his mom in the eyes for days and although the plant was saved a wave of guilt hit him every time he looked at it for years after that.

As the phone kept ringing he thought about that plant, about how his eight year old self promised to never do something that would make him feel that ashamed and guilty again. He’d failed miserably.

“ _Takahiro!_ ” His mom’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. He hoped the shrillness to her voice was overwhelming relief rather than poorly veiled anger.

“Hello mom.” He rubbed his neck.

“ _How are you? Matsukawa-kun said you were released from the hospital this morning already.”_

“I was… I uh, I was stomach pumped but nothing major.”

His mom scoffed. _“Nothing major! You nearly gave me a heart attack I was so worried!”_

“I’m sorry…” He felt like crying, the guilt threatening to drown him were he stod.

 _“I’d hope so!”_ She took a deep breath. _“But how are you now? Will you be OK, do you want to come home? You know your room will always be yours, right? Your dad and I miss you terribly.”_

“I um, I miss you too, mom. Say hi to dad from me, yeah?”

_“Of course dear. Is there anything we can do for you, if you don’t want to come home?”_

“Actually… there’s, there’s this one thing.” He steeled himself, desperately trying to keep afloat in the sea of self-loathing he’d found himself in the middle of. “The hospital recommended this, um, this therapist but I don’t… It’s pretty expensive. I would get a job but I’m behind on my studies and I…” he started to ramble, not sure how he could explain himself without sounding like the mess he was.

 _“Of course Takahiro.”_ His mom interrupted him. _“Your dad and I will take care of things so don’t you worry. Just promise you’ll call more often.”_

“Yeah, I will. Thank you mom.”

 _“Anything for you, Takahiro. I really mean that.”_ His mom sounded serious but her voice wobbled towards the end of the sentence.

He could feel tears burning at the corner of his eyes as he ended the call with a promise to call again soon and a short _I love you._

  


He walked out to the living room a few minutes later. His eyes still looked red and sore even though he didn’t actually cry but he figured trying to hide it was pointless. Thankfully the others didn’t comment on it as he sat down between them on the couch.

“So how did it go?” Matsukawa asked after a while. A cooking show played on the TV in front of them.

“Well… I think.”

“So you’re going to see that therapist?”

“Yeah, the hospital arranged a time less than a week from now.”

“That’s good.” Iwaizumi said. “I’m glad.”

“So am I.” Hanamaki smiled gratefully as they all went back to watching a young boy cry his eyes out over an onion. “Tag yourself I’m the judge laughing at him,” he said to change the subject.

“I’m that blonde contestant looking extremely uncomfortable in the background.” Matsukawa replied.

“I’m the onion.” Iwaizumi said, looking rather pleased with himself for having understood what they were on about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason this took so long is bc I was super uninspired and I was just sorta waiting for inspiration to come back but it didn't and well, long story short I just had to force myself to write this in the end, but I'm glad I did. 
> 
> Feel free to yell at me in the comments for taking so long to update, I completely understand. (If you'd rather you can come and yell at me [on my tumblr](http://hinata-kenma.tumblr.com/) )


	5. Good scenes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, told you I'd be better at updating from now on (fingers crossed I keep it up 'till the end)

Therapy was nothing like Hanamaki had imagined it. If he thought about it enough he could vaguely remember the nurse telling him what it would be like and what he could expect. However he could also remember tuning it out and simply accepting because he felt he had to. Well, there he was anyway, sitting in a red armchair in front of a therapist that looked to be barely in her thirties. Quite a contrast to the laying down in front of a Freud looking old dude he’d imagined.

His therapist, Amagi-san, had a nice voice which didn’t seem to change pitch at all. At first he’d found it frustrating and weird but soon he got used to it. She would ask things like “how do you feel before you go out to drink?” and “do you perhaps feel the need to avoid something where you live?” and he never knew how to answer, yet she still managed to say something that strangely seemed to help in response.

“This Matsukawa seems to be involved in most of what you tell me, even if he weren’t there.” She said one day. Hanamaki had been there three, maybe four times.

“I guess, yeah.” He shrugged, feeling awkward without being able to explain why.

“Do you want to tell me about him?” She asked as if she already knew that he did, like she knew more about Matsukawa than he did and only wanted to help him find out more about him too.

“I guess, yeah.” He repeated.

 

When he got home after that Iwaizumi was on the couch in their living room. He lifted his head from the book he had been reading and nodded in greeting. Hanamaki nodded back. “Where’s Matsukawa?”

“In the library, said he had a group project he needed to work on. He should be back later though, we should try to eat dinner together today.” Iwaizumi didn’t look up from his textbook as he spoke.

It was something they’d started doing since The Incident - eating dinner together when they could. At first Hanamaki had suggested it once or twice claiming they needed to sit down and talk so he could catch up with them again. After that it became something they did every Friday after Hanamaki’s therapy sessions but soon it became every other, every third day. Hanamaki hadn’t explicitly said so but it helped him stay home, gave him a real reason to give both himself and his friends as to why he couldn’t go out that day.

“Actually,” Hanamaki hesitated for a second, not sure if he wanted to voice his thoughts but equally as unsure if he could stop it, “I think I’ll be going out tonight.”

Iwaizumi looked up from his book looking startled. It’d been almost a month since The Incident and Hanamaki hadn’t gone out once since. Iwaizumi opened his mouth, a breathy noice indicated he was about to say something, stop him from going. Hanamaki turned around and left the apartment.

He fished out his phone from his pocket as he took quick steps towards the elevator.

 **(18.56) HanamakI:** _Won’t be home 2 l8, will text if I stay w some1_

He texted Iwaizumi, ignoring that they had a groupchat with Matsukawa that it perhaps would have been better to send that message to.

The elevator in the apartment building was small, barely two square meters, and had a mirror that was just a metal plate on the far wall. Looking at himself in it Hanamaki was thankful for his habit of dressing nicely for his therapy sessions despite his therapist insistence that he could come dressed however he’d like. He looked better now than he did a month ago, felt better too. At least so he told himself.

One of the first things he’d done after The Incident was talk to his professors, apologizing for assignments he were late on and asking if there was anything he could do to make it up. He’d spent a lot of time studying but he kept feeling like the more he did the more came up. The people he used to party with texted him a lot. They asked where he was and if he was coming out with them the next weekend, he always felt awkward declining but then he’d think about Iwaizumi and Matsukawa and do it anyway.

His gut churned as the elevator stopped and he stepped out. He didn’t know where he was going tonight but sent a mass snapchat asking about plans for the evening and got three replies before he’d even walked to the closest bus stop. The uncomfortable feeling didn’t stop. He tried not to think about it.

 

“Sorry I’m so late. I bought takeout.” Matsukawa greeted as he stepped through the door. Iwaizumi was in the same position on the couch as he had been when he’d left a few hours earlier, the book was different though. “Where’s Hanamaki?” He asked before Iwaizumi could greet him back.

“He um,” Iwaizumi put down his book and went to take the bags of takeout from Matsukawa’s hands. “He went out.”

“Out like…”

“He said he wouldn’t be back too late but you know…” Iwaizumi trailed off.

Matsukawa sighed, “more food for us then I guess.” He said with a defeated tone.

They sat down in front of the TV, each with a styrofoam container of food in their laps. It was quiet except for the sound of people walking around on the screen in front of them. Matsukawa didn’t know what the show was about but there was a soothing voice in the background and from time to time numbers would flash on the screen so he figured he was supposed to learn something from it. He didn’t.

“You know…” Matsukawa began as they were halfway through their food. “Sometimes… sometimes I think I’m getting over him.”

Iwaizumi looked away from the TV and towards his friends with raised eyebrows, silently urging him to continue.

“I’ll look at him and I’ll go _oh wow, he’s a great friend and I love him_ you know? But then I’ll also think that hey that’s what I think about when I look at you sometimes too, so maybe what I’m feeling towards Hiro is just friendship.” Matsukawa looked towards Iwaizumi, “especially before the hospital thing. He was never home and we never talked and things weren’t like I imagined, like they were supposed to be.

“I was so worried all the time, which was stupid. Hiro’s a big boy, he can take care of himself, do what he wants to. But then… I didn’t want him to. I wanted him to be home or at least out with us, with me. I was so frustrated and I don’t even know what and I thought that this isn’t what it feels like to be in love and I was relieved, even if I didn’t quite believe it if I gave it more thought than just that.”

Matsukawa averted his eyes from Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi was never one to take pity on him but now he looked sad and Matsukawa suspected the look was mirrored in his own eyes. He continued, “but then all that happened and he was just… fuck he was just laying there in that hospital bed and I knew he was fine and that shit happens but I’ve never been so scared before in my life and I realised… I realised I love him, still. I love him so much.

“And then when he started staying home with us I remembered all the good things about being in love with him and it was so good and I almost forgot how much it sucks to feel like you’re not quite good enough, not quite funny or important enough for him not to go out and worry you like that and now…” He choked up, forcing himself not to cry.

“And now you remember and it hurts.” Iwaizumi finished for him. Matsukawa only nodded as he stared at his food. “He’ll be OK though, I really think he will. He won’t go out as much and he’s got that therapist and I think he’s really trying.”

“Yeah… I hope so.”

“He is. Don’t worry.”

Matsukawa huffed humorlessly “gee, thanks Iwaizumi I’m cured from both my pining and my worrying now.” Despite himself though he could feel his lips turn upwards into a small smile. Iwaizumi was rarely one for empty words and it was reassuring to hear him be so confident when he himself seemed so utterly incapable of being so. “Why didn’t I just fall in love with you instead, that seems a lot less stressful.”

Iwaizumi laughed, “sorry to break it to ya but you wouldn’t have much luck here either.”

“Ah darn, you sure you’re not at least a little bit in love with me?” Matsukawa teased.

“In your dreams.” He rolled his eyes.

“That would be a right mess wouldn’t it? Hanamaki loves sex, I love Hanamaki and rant about it and the sex I’m having with Hanamaki, you love me and hate sex.”

“Sounds like a TV drama.”

“Is that what my life is? One of those over the top teenage shows about how hard it is to grow up and discover yourself… It is, isn’t it? That’s just tragic, I’m tragic.”

Iwaizumi laughed again, “well, you’re definitely over the top.” Matsukawa kicked him lightly from the other side of the couch. “Don’t do that. But no, I don’t think it is I mean, there has to be at least one person with an eating disorder, and someone with money problems… some drugs too.”

Matsukawa hummed, “so what you’re saying is that it could be worse?”

“I’m saying you’re only a subplot of an over the top teenage show about how hard life can be growing up.”

Matsukawa groaned, “thanks. I’m too old for this.”

“Yeah, you really are.” There was a beat of silence and then, “you should really tell him.”

 

Hanamaki texted Iwaizumi later that evening informing him he would be crashing at a friend’s house that night. He returned home early saturday morning still wearing the same clothes he’d left the house in the night before. He looked ruffled and tired but both Matsukawa and Iwaizumi breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped through the door, all in one piece.

Iwaizumi left at lunchtime claiming he was meeting up with some friends, Matsukawa suspected it was just an excuse to leave him alone with Hanamaki. Once again Matsukawa found himself sitting at the end of their old couch about to have a conversation he both feared and needed. This time the TV wasn’t on in the background, there was nothing to distract them from the conversation that was about to come.

“Why do you do it?” Matsukawa asked.

“What” Hanamaki raised an eyebrow, wincing a little bit at moving his face and having to focus on a conversation. Matsukawa guessed he had a hangover worse than he wanted to let on.

“The partying... and having sex with anything that moves.” Matsukawa explained. He didn’t care how it sounded, that he sounded judgmental and bitter and like everything he hated (and knew Hanamaki hated too). He was tired and disappointed, in Hanamaki but mostly in himself.

“It’s fun.” Hanamaki shrugged. “You’re only young once and all that” he said and then continued with a grin, “‘sides, you’ve had sex with me, you know it wouldn’t be right of me to keep that from the rest of the world don’t you think?” He winked and then winced again, a hand came up to massage his temple.

“So you’re going to sleep with the whole world?” Matsukawa sounded sceptical but Hanamaki just grinned wider.

“That’s the plan.” If Hanamaki picked up on the slight hostility from Matsukawa he didn’t comment on it. They were silent for a minute, the easier atmosphere Hanamaki so desperately tried to create by joking seemingly falling flat on the floor and disintegrating.

“Then why are you trying to stop?” Matsukawa asked so low it was almost a whisper, every sound seemed to sound a thousand times louder when everything around them was utterly quiet. He desperately wished there was something else in the room for him to focus on so he wouldn’t have to look Hanamaki in the eyes. Hanamaki looked confused for a second before opening his mouth to talk but he was interrupted before he could begin. “I mean, I’m no expert but I’m pretty sure you could have just said no to seeing a therapist. No one could force you, right?”

Hanamaki didn’t say anything for a while. His eyes were glued to the black screen of the TV.

“What happened?” Matsukawa asked, trying desperately to get his friend to talk to him, to open up.

“I don’t know. It was fun, genuinely.” Hanamaki’s shoulders slumped as he continued, “for a while at least. It all just went so fast and suddenly I was behind on everything and I had nothing else to do on the weekends because besides you and Iwaizumi the parties was, and is, my only social circle and… I guess there was something else too but I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it” and with that he reached towards the remote laying on the armrest behind him and turned on the TV. A rerun of an old sitcom played a laughter track too loudly, Matsukawa felt almost mocked.

Matsukawa sighed, “well, I think it’s good that you’re trying not to. I like having you at home for movie nights and stuff, Iwaizumi does too.” Hanamaki nodded but didn’t say anything. The sitcom kept playing the background. Matsukawa thought about how he’d have to throw that TV out when they got a new one - there was no way he could sell something that knew all his hardest conversation. _Sure,_ he thought, _a TV can’t talk, can’t rat me out. But still._

“There’s um, there’s something I wanted to tell you.” The sitcom ended and the commercials played, Iwaizumi’s words played in the back of Matsukawa’s mind.

“Hm?” Hanamaki hummed in question.

“I uh… We should, I mean… if you want to… I…” Matsukawa swore at himself, desperately trying to get the words out, he took a deep breath, steeled himself and then, “we should start having sex again.” _Fuck._  

“Oh.” Hanamaki said, blinking at the TV. “Sure.”

“Good.” Matsukawa wanted to cry in frustration, he could feel his heart pounding throughout his body.  “But not right now, obviously. Right now I’m going out. You need anything outside?” He asked as he stood up from the couch and made his way to the door. His legs were shaking and his knees were weak.

“Condoms and lube maybe? If you want to have sex I mean. Other than that I’m good, thanks.”

Matsukawa nodded. “OK. I’ll be back later. We’re watching that new movie I’ve been talking about tonight. Be here.” He stepped out the door and closed it behind him without waiting for a reply.

 **(10:45) Matsukawa:** _u really busy or can we meet up?_

 **(10:46) Iwaizumi:** _At the café down the road. You told him?_

 **(10:46) Matsukawa:** _be right there. nah._

 

“Why are you here if you didn’t tell him?” Iwaizumi greeted him as Matsukawa sat down in an armchair in front of him. The place was buzzing with activity and a small child was crying at the other end of the establishment. It wasn’t exactly cozy but for a large chain store like this one it was still among the better.

“Maybe I just wanted to see my very dear friend and have a nice coffee with him.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. Matsukawa sank further into the armchair, wishing it would swallow him whole.

“I don’t know. When did shit become so goddamn complicated between us, it was never supposed to be like that.”

Iwaizumi grunted. “We’ve had this conversation before.”

“I’m becoming the kinda person who can only talk about one thing and is always miserable and… fuck I really am a subplot of a shitty teenage movie.” He laughed but it was strained.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Iwaizumi

“We’ve had this conversation before.” He repeated Iwaaizumi’s words, getting an unimpressed stare in response. “Because he doesn’t like me back.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Neither do you though. But anyway I did tell him something at least.” Iwaizumi barely looked up at him from his coffee, not hopeful about what Matsukawa was going to say next. “You might need to find somewhere to be other than the apartment a bit more often from now on…”

Iwaizumi fixed him with a deadpan stare. “Of fucking course that’s how you’d get yourself out of that fucking conversation” he groaned, “you are not sexiling me from my own apartment.”

“Sorry?” Matsukawa said with a half-apologetic shrug.

“At least have the decency to try and look ashamed” Iwaizumi huffed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh where is this going why can't they just figure it out already 
> 
> I think this is going to be about 8 chapters all in all, but I really could use som feedback. Is this too long, too boring, too angsty, not angsty enough? Is there anything you want to see more or less off? Am I doing anything right? (I realise this is far from by best work) 
> 
> Geez I sound so down but I really do love this story and I love writing it and gosh I love these boys so much 
> 
> Leave a kudos if you feel like it and feel free to come talk to me in the comments or on my [tumblr](http://hinata-kenma.tumblr.com/) ♥


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